


Fix You Up

by lalazee



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, Comedy, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca is a new mutant and careless with his powers, while Marcus remains infuriatingly mysterious with his abilities. That is, up until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix You Up

**Author's Note:**

> A long ago work, reposted from LJ. Love my precious X-Men.

Esca sat in an armoured car, cuffed to his seat, and stared blandly at the MRD sitting across from him. The MRD was all kitted out in his padding and helmet and what-have-you, and he was so bloody sure that all that shite would keep him safe that he was fucking _grinning_.  
  
So Esca smirked in return. His knuckles cracked from the force of his grip on the metal edge of his seat. He wasn’t overly concerned with his current state, but he was incredibly agitated at being  _caught_  in the first place.  
  
Perhaps he needed to stop using his abilities in public, as the Professor had suggested. But honestly – how else would he have been able to save that wean’s cat from the tree if he hadn’t doubled himself up and climbed his own shoulders? Of course, the wee girl’s mum had been a right bint and call the Mutant Response Division, right on the front lawn.  
  
As if Esca were going to eat the fucking mog or something.  
  
The telltale squeal of the tires and swerve of the van had Esca laughing out loud, even as the MRD got to his shaky, booted feet and cocked his gun.  
  
It was a shame for this guy – the driver, too. Because, where the MRDs went, so did Esca’s friends. And he had some dangerous pals.  
  
“Don’t you fucking  _move_ ,” the MRD said with a waver in his voice.  
  
Esca raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. Did it  _look_  like he was going anywhere? The thick, heavy collar around his neck itched his nape something fierce, and it felt disconcerting as ever to have his power neutralised by the vaguely humming metal weighing him down.  
  
Of course, the MRD knew better. Esca was sure he’d been briefed time and again about those manky mutants and their tricks. Even so, regarding the latter, they didn’t have a fucking  _clue_.  
  
Esca heard the driver thrust himself from the truck and run into the street, his footsteps thudding and clumsy for anyone going up against Placidius. And Esca knew it would be Placidius coming for him – likely Liathan, too. Between the two of them, these sodding MRDs would be flat on their backs in seconds.  
  
But when Esca heard the sound of what sounded like a whoosh of energy, or a blast of electricity or something unfamiliar, his brow furrowed. That didn’t sound like Placidius’ high speed knock-outs, or Liathan plugging someone full of holes with the spikes that bulleted from his body. There was a roar, like an incoming tornado – and then the unmistakable crunch of a body slamming into the side of the van.  
  
Esca’s heart plugged up his throat, left him grinding his teeth to keep his cool. This mutant could be one of a dozen things. One of the Emperor’s scummy lot, or the Morlocks from beneath the city, or some rogue arsehole.  
  
Either way, this wasn’t looking good for Esca  _or_  the MRD.  
  
So when the back door to the truck busted open in one blinding explosion, Esca blinked the stars from his eyes and imagined he’d been concussed, because –  
  
Marcus?  _Really_?  
  
Esca would never admit it in a million years, but he remained silent and dumbstruck as he watched Marcus slam the MRD’s face into the wall of the car and knock him out cold. Esca was impressed.  
  
When Marcus’ tarnished gold gaze swerved and stuck on Esca, his face was all stern lines and clenched jaw. He was in the X-Men uniform – something Esca had never seen him wear before – and it clung to the mountains of his shoulders like a second skin, the muscles of his thighs straining against the black, durable material.  
  
Even when Marcus swept his attention to the shackles at Esca’s wrists, Esca was struck dumb. Marcus worked quickly, efficiently, as knelt between Esca’s knees, placed either hand over the metal cuffs, took a breath and – two tiny explosions singed Esca’s wrists, but not by much. When Esca looked down, his forehead close to brushing Marcus’, he saw the metal of the cuffs charred and blown straight through.  
  
Christ, he’d never seen Marcus use his ability. Ever. This was a day of several firsts.  
  
“Come on,” Marcus said, biting off his words like they tasted sour. He grabbed Esca’s hand before he could form a coherent reply, and tugged them into the street.  
  
Naturally, a crowd had gathered, but Marcus was quick to duck into an empty alley. Once Esca had a mind to realise he was being dragged down the lane like a fucking dog on a lead, he dug in his heels and ripped his hand away.  
  
“Oiy, Goliath! Give us a favour here and zap this?” he gestured to the oppressive collar around his neck.  
  
Marcus didn’t stop trudging along, just tossed over his shoulder, “No.”  
  
“No.” Esca blinked, sputtered. “N- _no_? What the fuck, Marcus?” Esca ran after Marcus, now nipping at his heels like the canine he hadn’t wanted to be. “I just saw you use your – whatever it is you do to explode loads of shite. Explode this!”  
  
Esca was thrust up against the cold, hard grit of a brick wall, with Marcus’ flushed, furious expression not inches away. His wide, gloved palms gripped and scraped Esca’s forearms and the heave of his chest moved against Esca’s torso with each tense breath. Esca swore he could feel the heated thump of Marcus’ pulse through the simple press of their bodies.  
  
“You don’t care at  _all_ , do you, Esca?” Marcus said, his breath fever-hot against Esca’s lips. “You don’t realise what they’ll do to you when you finally end up in one of their facilities. You don't have the fucking  _faintest_. You could have been – they could have –” Marcus hissed, short and sharp, and shook his head. When he fixed his molten eyes on Esca, the fury was banked, but the frustration remained. “There’s a reason why I don’t use my abilities,” Marcus said quietly. “I told you that.”  
  
Marcus released Esca, clenched his hands at his sides. “So no, I’m not taking that off. You can wait until we get back for someone else to remove the collar. I can’t control...  _this_  for long. I was lucky I got your cuffs off without –” Marcus swallowed and turned on his heel. “Let’s go,” he said faintly.  
  
Before Esca could retort or do anything except remember how to breathe, Marcus was off at a run.  
  
And dammit, Esca could detect that limp a mile away.  
  
“Moody bastard,” Esca said under his breath. Hearing sirens in the near distance, Esca exhaled loudly and followed Marcus’ retreating form.  
  
What a fucking day.  
  


***

  
Esca had been assigned to slave duty for Marcus some six months ago – he would still argue that it wasn’t necessarily  _his_  fault that Marcus’ wound reopened – and it still felt wonky to have to go to the  _basement_  to see the guy.  
  
Honestly, who  _chose_  to live in a basement?  
  
Someone who had a lot to hide. Or, it was dawning on Esca, someone who was frightened of themselves. Or, y’know, a big bloody  _martyr_. Because if Marcus was anything, he was that.  
  
Esca sighed and knocked on the door. When he got no reply, he said, “You must know by now that I’m coming in, anyway.”  
  
Marcus was in his usual spot. Stretched out on a chaise in long shorts and a t-shirt, beneath the sunlight that sifted down from the thin, wide windows bordering the ceiling on one wall. It was a miracle that Marcus was naturally tan, for the severe lack of Vitamin D he was soaking up.  
  
Marcus didn’t look up from his book. “What,” he said. “I don’t need you today.”  
  
Esca narrowed his eyes and felt his cheeks heat. “Fine. I was going to apologise – one time offer – but that was your call, mate.” Esca swung back to head for the door and grinned when he heard Marcus’ book clap shut. It was too easy to predict a martyr, really. A person could guilt them into most anything.  
  
“Fine,” Marcus said, keeping Esca’s careless tone. “I accept your half-assed apology, now go away.”  
  
Esca turned and folded his arms across his chest. He eyed Marcus critically, and Marcus stared back without blinking. After tense seconds of ticking silence, Esca scowled.  
  
“Who said you even had to come to my rescue, anyway?”  
  
Marcus raised an eyebrow and sat up. Tossed his book to the side with a wide shrug. “Everyone else qualified for an MRD showdown was on another mission.”  
  
Esca tilted his chin, looked down at Marcus from across the room. “You could have knackered your leg more than you did, y’know.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Esca didn’t think Marcus was conscious of the hand that was pushing into the mangled flesh of his thigh. Esca still hadn’t asked where he’d received the vicious injury. Previously, he hadn’t given a shit. He’d been more concerned with finishing his slave duty than asking questions.  
  
Now... well, now Marcus had risked his daft life for Esca. That changed things.  
  
“How did that –” Esca gestured with a hand to Marcus.  
  
“Look,” Marcus said, by way of reply. “My ability isn’t cool like some of the other kids around here. It’s just dangerous. That’s really all anyone needs to know.”  
  
Marcus shifted to stand, but his face went red and he immediately plopped back down to the couch.  
  
Esca rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. “You’re such a fuckin’ arsehole, know that?” Marcus just glowered sourly at Esca, who gave an exasperated sigh. “Come on, stop being an angsty vampire, Marcus Cullen. Come upstairs.”  
  
“That would make you a whiny girl,” Marcus said with a grumble, but he didn’t refuse as Esca doubled up and approached him.  
  
Esca’s Multiple went to one side of Marcus, while he remained on the other.  
  
“Sure,” the Multiple said. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, mate. Now, stand.”  
  
They got there in the end. Marcus’ arm slung heavy and warm over Esca’s neck, as well as the Multiple’s, as they made their way to the door.  
  
“But really,” Esca said as they made it to elevator and waited for it to ding. “What’s with the leg? What’s with everything?”  
  
Marcus was silent, his face stony. When they packed into the elevator, the quiet was oppressive, like a thunderstorm about to tear the sky open.  
  
“Christ, Marcus, what’s the harm in my knowing? I’m not gonna run my mouth to school or anything,” the Multiple said and Esca, of course, agreed.  
  
“I blew myself up,” Marcus said suddenly, staring blankly at the silver elevator doors.  
  
“ _What_?” both Escas said, eyes wide.  
  
“I literally blew up,” Marcus said, sounding tired. “Whatever my ability is – we’re not really sure the extent of it – I just... store up energy until I –” Marcus made a noise of frustration, and for once he sounded like a regular human being when he met Esca’s eyes. “The first time it happened, my body ripped itself open. My chest, my stomach, my leg. Severe internal bleeding, damaged organs, broken bones – the works. I’ve got a scar from –” Marcus ran a finger from his collarbone to his navel, “There to there. Brought my house to the ground, too.”  
  
Esca gawked. The doors dinged, opened, and neither of them stepped out.  
  
Marcus looked bland again, expressionless. His voice was monotone, faint. “And I don’t know if or when it’ll happen again.”  
  
Esca’s lips parted as he led Marcus into the wide, spacious corridor of light and distant laughter. His mouth closed as they began to walk. His glance flitted to Marcus’ strong profile, then to their feet, and finally rested on Marcus.  
  
“Right,” he said, finding unexpected steel in his voice. “So you’re gonna hide until something that might not happen...  _happens_?”  
  
“I –”  
  
“Marcus,” the Multiple said, “Shut up and come out with us.”  
  
“Aye,” Esca said with a grin. “Listen to that bloke, he knows what he’s on about.”  
  
Marcus looked almost comical with a child’s pout. “First and last time,” he said gruffly.  
  
Esca snorted a laugh. Marcus’ lips tipped up in the shadow of a smile, and somewhere beyond the long, languid pull in Esca’s stomach, he hoped Marcus’ words wouldn’t prove true.


End file.
